That which does not destroy us, only makes us stronger

That which does not destroy us, only makes us stronger

I just journeyed through one dark path, which lied on a razor’s edge.  It was the razor’s edge of speaking the truth in love.  But thanks be to God, who has given me both solice and exhortation from several of Amy Carmichel’s “IF’s.”

These “if’s” speak to both sides of the edge.  That edge is like a double-edged sword.  It is sharp enough to pierce through flesh.  And it “penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; for it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” (Heb 4:13)

I remember from somewhere a word spoken that now comes to mind: “That which does not destroy us, only makes us stronger.”  The Psalmist David shapes our prayer in the right direction; surely it is the Spirit who is still speaking through the prophet David (Psalm 18):  “Your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great.  You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.” (Ps 18)

On one side of the edge, are ten “If’s” :

1.      If I can write an unkind letter, speak an unkind word, think an unkind thought without grief and shame, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

2.      If I can hurt another by speaking faithfully without much preparation of spirit, and without hurting myself far more than I hurt that other, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

3.      If I cannot be at rest under the Unexplained, forgetting the word, “And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in Me,” of if I can admit the least shadow of a misunderstanding, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

4.      If I do not give a friend “the benefit of the doubt,” but put the worst construction instead of the best on what is said or done, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

5.      If I felt injured when another lays to my charge things that I know not, forgetting that my Sinless Saviour trod this path to the end, then I now nothing of Calvary love.

6.      If I feel bitterly towards those who condemn me, as it seems to me, unjustly, forgetting that if they know me as I know myself, they would condemn me much more, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

7.      If I want to be known as the doer of something that has proved the right thing, or as the one who suggest that it should be done, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

8.      If I avoid being “ploughed under,” with all that such ploughing entails of rough handling, isolation, uncongenial situations, strange tests, then I now nothing of Calvary love.

9.      If I wonder why something trying is allowed, and press for prayer that it may be removed if I cannot be trusted with any disappointment, and cannot go on in peace under any mystery, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

10.  If I ask to be delivered from trial rather than for deliverance out of it to the praise of His glory; if I forget that the way of the cross leads to the Cross and not to a bank of flowers . . . so that I am surprised when the way is rough and think it strange- though the words is, “Think it not strange, but count it all joy,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

On the other side are these three “if’s”:

1.      If I am perturbed by the reproach and misunderstanding that may follow action taken for  the good of  souls for whom I must give account If I cannot commit the matter and go on in peace and  in silence, remembering Gethsemane and the Cross, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

2.      If I am afraid to speak the  truth, lest I lose affection, or lest the one concerned should say, “You do not understand,” or because I fear to lose my reputation for  kindness; if I put my own god name before the other’s highest good, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

3.      If I am content t to heal a hurt slightly, saying “Peace, peace, where there is no peace,” if I forget that poignant word, “Let love be without partiality,” and blunt the edge of truth, speaking not right things but smooth things, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

God is my rock, in whom I take refuge (Psalm 18)

“The Lord has heard my prayer and has come down to save me from myself and all my enemies.  In my distress I called to the Lord: I cried to the Lord for help.  From His temple He heard my voice.”

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me he drew me out of deep waters.  He rescued me from my powerful enemy. . . .  “They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the LORD was my support. . . . He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.”

The Lord is a refuge for the oppressed, and a stronghold in times of trouble.